


You're My Religion

by anunexpectedhero



Series: When I'm Down on My Knees, You're How I Pray [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Catholic Guilt, Catholicism, Grinding, Guilty John, John is a Priest, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Priests, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Sherlock is 18, Sherlock is very needy, Sneaking Out, Top John, Virgin Sherlock, it's light though, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anunexpectedhero/pseuds/anunexpectedhero
Summary: John deals with the guilt of being with Sherlock, and the pressure to admit to what they'd done. However, he doesn't think he can stay away from Sherlock or give up his life as a priest.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cas_Wings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_Wings/gifts).



> The title is from Lana Del Rey's song, [Religion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MX7iR9veGOw).
> 
> A million thanks to everyone who's supported this series so far.

For days after becoming intimate with Sherlock, the guilt John felt was nearly unbearable. His regret distracted him from his prayers, and the fear of being exposed kept him up at night. He could lose everything he worked for because of one mistake. The church would shame him, and Sherlock would likely feel the repercussions as well. He wished he could take it back, or forget about it and move on. 

John only had himself to blame; it was his weakness that caused him to cave in. Of course he suspected prior to their meeting that Sherlock’s interest in him stepped beyond appropriate limits. Yet, when he and his mother had approached John and asked about volunteer opportunities, it wasn't as if he could say ‘Sorry, no, I think your son has inappropriate sexual feelings for me’. In his defense, he never imagined Sherlock would act on such feelings. Still, he should have had the strength to say no. He could have guided Sherlock onto the right path, but his own temptations were too great. 

In his mind, he had two sensible choices: confess his mistake and lose everything he'd worked for, or tell Sherlock they couldn't see each other outside church again, and keep their meeting a secret. Yet, somehow, he couldn't imagine himself settling with either option.

Even through his guilt, John found that his mind often wandered back to Sherlock and to how good it felt to _finally_ let go. It has been eleven years since John was last with someone sexually. He couldn't forget what a massive relief it had been, and he didn't know how he could return to living a chaste life. 

On the third day, John came to the realization that he couldn't imagine a life without his faith, and he knew it would be impossible to renew his celibacy after what he and Sherlock did. It was this conclusion that pushed him to finally contact him.

_Monday. Same time. JW_

 

 

When Mass began on Sunday, John felt odd to be standing before a congregation that looked to him for spiritual guidance; it was like he was putting on an act. Like he was lying to them in a way they would never expect. 

Taking in a breath, he greeted the congregation and began the Penitential Rite as routine. 

“Let us acknowledge our sins,” he began, “and so prepare ours-” He paused, caught off guard as Sherlock shot a sly smile toward him and discreetly pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He and his family sat in the front row, something John assumed was Sherlock's doing. Many members of the congregation appeared confused at John’s pause, so he cleared his throat and finished the rest of the Rite.

He should have known not to look to Sherlock or his family during Mass, and he decided to refrain from doing so again. However, Sherlock took part in the Eucharist as always, and when it was his turn, he winked as John placed the thin wafer on his tongue, and kept his eyes on him as he drank from the wine cup. It made it nearly impossible to focus for the rest of the service. 

By the time Mass finished, John was more than ready to escape. Yet, as always, Sherlock approached to speak with him. 

Typically, Sherlock thanked him for the mass, but instead, he eyed John from head to toe, saying in a low voice, “I’m not sure I can wait until tomorrow.” 

John blinked rapidly, quickly scanning the area to make sure no one was close enough to hear.

“Sherlock, we can’t talk about this here.” 

Sherlock smirked. “Don’t worry, no one can hear us.” 

“It’s just- we have to be careful, okay?” 

Sherlock’s eyebrows raised, his eyes moving to the door that lead to John’s office. “I wouldn’t say meeting here is ‘careful’.” 

John’s lips pursed, and he nodded, shifting where he stood. “I’ll text you about it later, you should go back to your family.” 

As Sherlock walked away, John was certain he'd seen Sherlock’s brother shooting them an odd glance.

 

 

John waited until it was well into the evening to text Sherlock, just in case Sherlock was around any family members or friends during the daytime. 

 _Thought about what you said. It probably isn’t smart to keep meeting at the church. JW_  

John received a reply almost immediately. 

 _I would say we can meet at my place, but I don’t think that would end very well. SH_  

 _Probably not. :) JW_  

 _How about your’s, then? SH_  

 _What if someone sees you come in? JW_  

 _We can say I’m your nephew if anyone sees. SH_  

John paused. Maybe he was being too paranoid. 

_Alright, just wait until it’s dark out. JW_

John sent another text with his address, and suddenly whatever it was between them felt more concrete. Any hope he had of gaining the self control to turn Sherlock away dissipated.

 

 

Sherlock decided sneaking out of the house would be the best option. Sure, he was _allowed_ to go out past dark, but Mycroft had been keeping an eye out since the day he advised him to stay away from the Father. As skilled as he was in his deductions, he probably had some inclination as to what happened with him and John. 

So, Sherlock waited until he was sure his parents and Mycroft were asleep. He'd decided to wear as snug pair of jeans and a thin white t-shirt in order to look presentable yet casual. Before quietly sneaking out of the house, Sherlock grabbed a condom and a small bottle of lube he'd purchased in anticipation of their meeting. He hadn't been able to get the idea of finally feeling John inside him out of his mind. Even though virginity had never been a significant concept in his mind, he wanted John to be the one to take it.

 

 

Getting to John's flat was surprisingly easy as it wasn't far from his own home. He knocked softly on the door, and ran his hand through his hair before John answered. 

A smile spread across Sherlock's lips as John opened the door. Somehow he was surprised to see John in a jumper rather than his clerical shirt; it suited him nicely. 

“Wasn't sure if you would make it,” John commented as he stepped aside to let Sherlock in.

“I Probably should have texted you. I wanted to wait until everyone was asleep to leave. Sorry about that,” Sherlock apologized as John shut the door behind them.

Sherlock looked past John for a moment at the flat. It was humble and comforting, like a home should feel. There was the main room, which had a sofa and a television, then there was an open entryway that lead to the kitchen, and a small hallway on the opposite side that likely lead to John's bedroom and bathroom.

“Don't be,” John assured with a warm smile.

They stood in front of the door for a moment in silence as if neither knew what to do next, before John turned his head toward toward the kitchen.

“Er, did you want something to dr-” John began, but Sherlock cut him off as he moved forward and placed a hand on John's jaw to pull him in and gently press their lips together. It wasn't long until John responded, taking control of the kiss. They moved together easily, Sherlock's plump lower lip sliding between John's thin lips.

Soon, John was easing Sherlock backward until his back met with the wall, and their kiss became more heated. John took Sherlock's wrists in his hand, pressing them against the wall above Sherlock's head as he trailed his kisses down Sherlock's neck. 

Sherlock moaned, rolling his hips forward. His wrist bumped something hung on the wall, and he heard it clatter on the ground. John pulled away from his neck, and Sherlock looked down, realizing he'd accidentally knocked a wooden cross off John's wall. He opened his mouth to apologize, but John leaned back in, mouthing over his neck.

“I'll fix it later,” John murmured between kisses. Sherlock could feel John beginning to introduce his tongue to his neck, before he began lightly nipping the smooth skin.

Sherlock's breath hitched, his cock beginning to feel trapped in his jeans. “Mm, John,” he moaned, running his fingers through John's hair. “Want you.”

“I'd hope so at this point,” John chuckled. 

“I mean,” Sherlock began, smoothing his hand down John's side, “I want to go all the way.”

John pulled away, then stilled, and Sherlock could see his pupils dilate. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean- I didn't come prepared.”

“It's alright- I did,” Sherlock informed as he pulled the bottle of lube and condom from his pocket.

John licked his lips, nodding. “Right. If you're sure.”

Sherlock offered a reassuring smile. “I'm sure. I _really_ want this,” he said, sliding his hand down the front of John's trousers, palming over John's erection.

John groaned, recapturing Sherlock's lips with more desire and passion than before.

“We should move to the bedroom,” John suggested.

Sherlock nodded eagerly, and John lead the way down the hall. When they reached the bedroom,  Sherlock could hardly believe where he was. Just two weeks earlier John seemed completely untouchable. He never thought his attraction would be reciprocated.

As soon as John closed the door behind them, Sherlock surged forward, recapturing John's lips.

John stepped back, guiding Sherlock backward as they kissed. Soon, he pulled away, sitting down on the end of his bed. Sherlock followed, climbing into John's lap with a knee on either side of his hips.

Sherlock felt John's hands sliding down his sides and to his arse, pulling their hips closer together. Sherlock placed a hand on John's chest, pressing back until he was flat on the bed. He rolled his hips down, grinding against John's cock.

“Need more,” Sherlock whimpered, panting heavily as his hips rocked forward.

“Yeah..” John agreed, equally as breathless. He sat up and pulled his jumper off, then Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock stared for a moment, admiring John's strong shoulders and bare chest.

Sherlock rose from John's lap and removed the condom and lube from his pocket. He set them on John's bedside table before laying back on the bed.

He watched as John followed, and soon he was looming over Sherlock, kissing the spot just beneath his jaw, and down to his collarbone. He moved further, swirling his tongue around one of Sherlock's nipples, then the other. Sherlock moaned, threading his fingers through John's hair. Soon, John's teeth were nipping gently at Sherlock's belly, then his hipbones which jutted out just above his waistband.

John's fingers made a quick work of the buttons and zipper of Sherlock's jeans, and his fingers slipped beneath the material, pulling down. Sherlock lifted his hips, allowing John to remove them completely.

Sherlock flushed, feeling utterly exposed as he never had before- completely on display for John’s eyes.

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous,” John commented as he sat back, and Sherlock flushed at the praise. His hand circled around Sherlock's cock, languidly stroking upward. Sherlock choked back a moan, his head pressing back into the pillow below him.

“Sh-shit,” he murmured, screwing his eyes shut.

He felt John’s hand sliding to the base of his cock, before his warm, wet tongue circled the glans. Sherlock inhaled sharply, his hands fitting in the bed sheets.

John's tongue drew a path down Sherlock's cock. His hands pulled up on the backs of Sherlock's knees. Sherlock took the hint, setting his feet flat on the bed.

John's head dipped down, kissing along Sherlock's thighs and down to his arse, where he licked a broad stripe over Sherlock's hole. It was much more pleasant than the first time, considering the fact that he wasn't bent over a hard desk. Throwing an arm over his eyes, Sherlock moaned, his hips rising off the mattress.

John rubbed circles over Sherlock's hole with his thumb, massaging the tight muscle.

“Fetch the lube?” John asked between licks.

Sherlock stretched his arm out and grabbed it off the table, passing it to John.

John pressed on Sherlock's hole with his tongue, the tip breaching his entrance. Sherlock could hear the click of the lube’s cap, and looked down. John was coating his index finger with it.

“Have you done this at home?” John asked, massaging the lubed finger over Sherlock's pucker.

“Mmh- yes,” Sherlock answered, feeling breathless. “But only two fingers.”

John nodded. “I'll go slow, yeah?”

Sherlock nodded, trusting him completely.

John inserted the tip of his finger slowly, easing it in wish twists and shallow thrusts. Sherlock gasped softly. It didn't feel quite the same as when he'd done it to himself; John's fingers were wider than his own, was the angle was much different.

With his free hand, John went back to work on Sherlock's cock, stroking it steadily. The dual sensations caused his thighs to tremble, his soft moans filling the room.

After Sherlock had loosened considerably, John slid another finger in alongside the first. With his free hand, he poured more lube over the spot where his fingers entered Sherlock’s hole.

“ _So good,_ ” Sherlock whimpered. “Need your cock…”

John nodded, pressing a small kiss to Sherlock’s abdomen. “Soon. We’re taking it slow, remember?” He soothed, pumping his fingers in and out of Sherlock at a steady pace.

“Just need you,” Sherlock moaned. He knew John didn’t want to hurt him, and he wasn’t blind to the fact that John’s girth was quite substantial. Yet, the desire to feel him fully was overwhelming.

Sherlock began rocking his hips down onto John’s fingers, hungry for more. He pushed his hair back from his forehead. It had become damp with sweat even though his body was bare.

“Do you think you’re ready for another?”

Sherlock nodded eagerly. Feeling a third finger press into him was a relief even though there was a slight burn resulting from the stretch. John’s fingers curled upward, gently rubbing against the Sherlock’s walls. Soon, John’s fingertips brushed against his prostate, and he gasped, his head lifting off the mattress.

“I’m gonna come,” Sherlock cried, biting his lip.

“It’s alright, you can let go.”

“Not yet. Need you inside me,” Sherlock said as he shook his head and reached down, gripping the base of his cock. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” John asked, meeting Sherlock’s eyes.

“Yes, _please_ ,” Sherlock begged.

“Alright,” John agreed, running his thumb over Sherlock’s lower lip. He gently removed his fingers from Sherlock’s arse, then stood from the bed.

Sherlock missed their close proximity immediately, and he watched as John stepped over to the bedside table. He tore the foil condom packet open with his teeth and tossed the wrapper aside. Sherlock stared, mesmerized, as John rolled the condom down over his cock.

As soon as John rejoined Sherlock on the bed, he placed a hand on Sherlock’s cheek, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He stood up on his knees, lubing his cock thoroughly before he laid back down, supporting himself with a hand on either side of Sherlock’s head. Sherlock spread his legs wide as John reached down and gripped his cock, running it over Sherlock’s hole.

Sherlock whimpered, running his hand up John’s side. Their eyes met, and Sherlock could see a multitude of thoughts running through his mind.

“It’s okay,” Sherlock murmured, surging up to kiss John.

John took in a deep breath and nodded, pressing his hips forward until his cock began to breach Sherlock’s hole. He ducked his head down to Sherlock’s neck and sucked on a patch of skin near his throat as he pushed further inside. Sherlock could feel vibrations across his neck run across his neck as John moaned.

Sherlock gasped, wrapping his legs around John’s waist. He felt utterly stretched open, but the pain was minimal. Suddenly he was grateful for John’s stubborn patience in preparing him.

When John’s cock was fully seated inside, he stilled his hips and pulled his head back to look at Sherlock. “Are you hurting at all?” he asked, an acute look of concern written across his features. His hand moved up to Sherlock’s head, brushing his damp curls away from his forehead.

“No, ‘s perfect,” Sherlock replied, softly smiling up at John.

John pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead as he pulled his hips back. His cock nearly slipped out of Sherlock’s arse before he pushed back in, letting out a shaky breath.

“So good, so good for me,” John murmured, thrusting his hips at a steady pace.

Sherlock clung to John’s shoulders, burying his head in John’s neck. His thighs began to tremble again, his eyes screwing shut as John’s thrusts sped up.

“Touch me, please,” Sherlock gasped, panting heavily against John’s neck.

John obliged, his hand circling around the base of Sherlock’s cock.

“ _Yes_ ,” Sherlock moaned as John’s hand pumped his cock in time with his thrusts. His moans echoed throughout the room as John began to speed up, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

With a twist of John’s hand, Sherlock’s fingers dug into John’s back, letting out a sob as his orgasm washed over him. He could feel it everywhere in his body at once while his come spurted across his stomach, some of it landing on John’s sheets.

“ _Shit_ ,” John swore, his eyes glued to Sherlock’s pulsing cock.

Sherlock collapsed, limp against the mattress as John continued thrusting his hips. Soon, he was pulling out of Sherlock’s hole and stripping the condom off. He gripped his cock firmly and began stroking it quickly. A loud groan filled the room as his come splattered over Sherlock’s abdomen. Much of it landed on the come that already pooled on his stomach, and some went as high as Sherlock’s chest. He stayed above Sherlock for a minute as his body worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm, then he collapsed on the mattress by Sherlock’s side, panting heavily.

Sherlock grabbed a pillow and pushed it beneath his head. He peered down at the mess across his belly and dragged a finger through the spots of come, mixing them together. His eyes were half-lidded, and when John turned on his side, facing him, a smile spread across his lips. “I think I need a tissue,” he commented, chuckling at the obscene amount of come on his stomach.

“I think you’ll need something a bit bigger,” John added, joining in Sherlock's laughter. After he took a moment to catch his breath, he rose from the bed.

Sherlock watched as John disappeared into the bathroom, admiring his strong back muscles and arse as he left.

John returned shortly, a damp cloth in hand. He knelt on the bed by Sherlock’s side, dragging the cloth, which Sherlock found to be pleasantly warm, across the mess of come. After John finished cleaning up, he fetched a clean duvet and draped it over Sherlock. He rejoined him on the bed, relaxing by his side. “You can stay the night,” he offered, running his fingers through Sherlock’s curls.

Sherlock could feel sleep tempting him, and he gazed up at John through his tired eyes. “I’ll have to leave early,” he mumbled. “No one knows I’m gone.”

John nodded and leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Sherlock’s temple. “Just rest for now.”

And Sherlock did.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought :) 
> 
> Part three is coming soon!


End file.
